remembering, whereby everything and everyone associated with National Socialism
is seen as an aberration grotesque elements of a demonic singularity, as is so prevalent in much of what we see and read is not to remember the past at all but to concoct a myth thereby leaving us blind to the very real possibility of further shocking episodes of mans capacity for inhumanity.20 In this orgy of self-righteousness we are not only engaged in an act of wilful forgetfulness, we further run the very real risk of doing an enormous disservice to the young.21 Perhaps to remember the Holocaust ultimately will be to remember that it is not the legacy of a handful of evil Germans brokering a final solution in the 1940s, rather it is the legacy of we good Europeans. It is a complex, horrific, and not just German, but ultimately human story; the true evil, the true horror of it, as Hannah Arendt so vividly portrays is the banality of it.22 To believe that the possibility of similar future events ended with the lives of those who were the immediate perpetrators misses the very important lesson to be learned! Zimmerman, for example, argues that: Heidegger glided over the fact that the Holocaust was a German phenomenon involving the slaughter of millions of Jews. Instead, he chose to view the Holocaust as a typical episode in the technological era afflicting the entire West.23 Zimmerman agrees with Lacoue-Labarthe that Heideggers great failing was his refusal to see Auschwitz or the Holocaust as a caesura. For Zimmerman then, the challenge is to treat the Holocaust as entirely singular, a dreadful and specifically German anomaly. It seems clear that even if Heidegger had been keen to explicitly discuss the Holocaust at length philosophically and to indeed repent publicly for his own Nazi allegiances or express profound grief for what had happened, which would have more than satisfied many of his most ardent critics, he would yet eschew this parsing of the narrative concerning the Holocaust as missing its deepest essence. This was clearly part of the point he wished to make in his correspondence with Marcuse as well as in his infamous agriculture remark. Marcuse dismisses the question as to whether or not it is possible to make comparisons between the Holocaust and other horrors of the Second World War. Instead Marcuse wants a word, that is, a public confession from Heidegger concerning his personal feelings on the Holocaust that would indicate clearly to everyone his revulsion at what took place. And, more than that, he wants Heidegger to reinforce the discursive rules that had already been sanctioned concerning the Second World War. When Heidegger responds with a suggestion to the effect that it is a mistake to look on the Nazi regime in the singular way demanded by the Allies, Marcuse accuses him essentially of a tu quoque fallacy,24 a criticism levelled against this alleged strategy of Heideggers by subsequent critics also (that is, of trivializing through comparison).25 And yet, Zimmerman seems at least partially sensitive to what Heidegger was trying to draw attention to when he quickly qualifies his own criticism as mentioned above: in speaking of the Holocaust in the same breath with the hydrogen bomb, Heidegger was making an important point. Mass extermination in the Nazi camps was possible only because of developments within industrial technology. Moreover, the Nazis spoke of the Jews as if they were little more than industrial waste to be disposed of as efficiently as possible. Officials in charge of planning strategic use of nuclear weapons must be trained to conceive of the enemy